“You won’t tell me the rules, because you don’t want me dwelling on them. But you know what? I’m dwelling on them because you’re keeping them from me.”
He releases a defeated breath. “It’s really quite simple. My actions set the limits for his and vice-versa. If I kiss you, he can kiss you. If he touches you here…” He cups me in between the legs and lowers his hand. “I can touch you there.”
A chill ripples through me. That’s why they were arguing about kissing me yesterday.
My knee-jerk reaction is to scream, Have you lost your ever-loving mind? But if I compartmentalize my emotions and look at it from their perspectives, it’s not a bad approach. If Trace would’ve fucked me in the bathroom, it would’ve given Cole the green light to do the same. Trace doesn’t want that, so he jerked off instead.
By controlling themselves, they’re controlling each other. That’s a whole lot more effective than my sad attempt at setting rules. But there’s something I don’t understand.
“What about the six-month time line?” I ask.
“We agreed to no sex while you’re in limbo.” His brow furrows, expression pensive. “It was my idea. I want you out of his bed until you make a decision.” He gives me a pointed look. “Until you choose me, at which point you’ll never fuck him again.”
A swallow sticks in my throat. I don’t blame him. Whoever I choose will carry the memory of seeing me with his best friend. How can either of them live with that?
“The problem is,” Cole says, “I don’t think I’ll last six months.”
No shit. I run my hands through his tousled hair, untangling the thick strands on top. “I need to just make a decision and end—”
“No.” He tightens his grip on my waist. “You’re not going to rush this.”
“Why not? Dragging it out doesn’t help…”
Then it dawns on me. They’re not ready for this to end. They put off these confident vibes, speaking in terms of when, not if, but deep down, neither one is certain he’ll be chosen.
“You’re prolonging this.” My gaze drifts to Trace on the terrace. “Because you’re afraid.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid.” Cole straightens, eyes flinty. “I’m afraid you’re going to flip a fucking coin and let luck decide. Right now, you don’t have a clue who you want, and until you know, this is how it’s going to be.”
A ragged inhale shudders my chest. “I hate this.”
“I love you.” He trails his fingers across my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear.
“Love you, too.”
He grips my legs between the spread of his and looks me in the eye. “How far did he go?”
I cringe, curling in on myself.
“Danni.” He touches my chin, lifting it. “As long as you’re honest with me, I’ll never resent you for being with him.”
Honesty is good. I nod to myself, gathering courage and searching for the right words.
“We—” My voice creaks, and I try again. “We didn’t go any farther than you and I went yesterday.”
I can tell he’s trying to keep a composed expression, but the skin around his eyes is so tight he looks like he’s seconds from exploding.
“Did you come?” He works his jaw and stills it.
I turn my face away as tears sneak up.
“That was answer enough.” There’s no judgment in his tone as he circles his arms around me, pulling my chest to this. “Did it happen in the Range Rover?”
“The bathroom at Walmart,” I whisper.
He growls deep in his chest. “Classy.”
“You’d rather I fool around in your car and disrespect you?”
“No.” His hand absently strokes my back. “Did he come?”
My shoulders fall forward, and my heart hammers in my chest. “I know you prefer to hear these details from me instead of him, and I’m trying to be open about it. But it makes me feel cheap, Cole. Like the intimacy I share with him doesn’t mean anything.”
“If it didn’t mean anything, we wouldn’t be here.” His caresses my back, affectionately, compassionately. “Trace can tell me the rest.”
“No, I can do this. I just need—”
The back door opens, and Trace steps in, pocketing his phone. His gaze homes in on me, then Cole. Lips resting in a scowl, he strides toward us.
“You told her the rules.” He glares at Cole, lowering onto the stool beside us.
“She wouldn’t leave it alone.” Cole pulls me closer in the V of his legs and says under his breath, “Pain in the ass.”
“I don’t like to be kept in the dark.” I pinch his bicep, where it bulges in the short-sleeve of his shirt.
“Did he make you tell him what we did together?” Trace watches me closely.
“Yeah.” My face heats. “We were just discussing it.”
“I haven’t heard everything.” Cole rubs his thumb against my hipbone. “It makes her uncomfortable.”
“I’ll finish the conversation.” Trace lifts his eyes to me. “You can go—”
“Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass.” I cross my arms.
“You didn’t sign up for this.” Trace slants toward me, expression grave. “We put you in a terrible position. You didn’t choose to love both of us. But you stuck it out, tried to make it right. You didn’t ask to be lied to, deceived, drugged, kidnapped, and wrenched back and forth. But you’re still here, stronger and feistier than ever.” He shifts back and rests a finger beneath his chin. “We know you’re not made of glass.”
“There’s titanium in your veins,” Cole murmurs, staring at my lips.
Says the man with arms of steel. I let my hand fall down the curve of his bicep and rest back against the island.
“My point is,” Trace says, “Cole and I created this mess, and I refuse to distress you any more than we already have.” He thrusts his chin in the direction of the hallway. “Go dance, Danni. It’s been too damn long.”
He’s right. Five weeks ago, I thought I lost the most important dance of my life. My first dance. The music died inside me, because a broken heart has no rhythm. But it’s beating again. I have them back for however long it lasts, and I want to dance for that. I want to dance the way I used to dance for them.
I move to leave then feel compelled to linger a moment longer. Sliding a hand against the back of Cole’s head, I reach for Trace and clasp his nape. With a physical connection to both of them, I touch my lips to Cole’s forehead and repeat the kiss with Trace.
I’m reluctant to let go. I just want to hold them, keep them close, for always. But that’s not how this ends, and I need to get that through my thick head.
Dropping my hands, I step back, warming beneath the heat of Cole’s brown eyes and shivering in the depths of Trace’s arctic blues. The skip of my pulse propels my feet, and I make my way through the living room and up the sloping stairs. When I turn the corner in the hall, I stop and hold my breath.
A long silence. Then Trace’s wooden voice. “I came on her, not in her. No part of her touched my cock…”